


Three Wishes

by TheBadIdeaBears



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bargaining, Boys Kissing, Clubbing, Djinni & Genies, Fairy Tale Elements, Halloween, M/M, Pining, Swearing, Texting, Wishes, fairy godmother JJ, skating gala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12582168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadIdeaBears/pseuds/TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: It's Halloween, and Otabek's birthday. Yuri knows he wants to tell him how he feels but he can't seem to catch a break. Help comes from an unexpected place in the form of JJ, but as Yuri is about to find out, you can't get something for nothing.





	Three Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's Pandora! Holly asked me for some fairytale-inspired Yuri/Otabek for Halloween and after a lot of fiddling with various ideas (I nearly had Yuri carried away by faeries ngl) this is what I wrote for her. I hope you all enjoy it and happy Halloween!

Occasionally, someone puts on a seasonal skating gala, and Yuri finds himself even busier than usual. Fortunately, 'Spectres on Skates' is being held in St Petersburg, so he doesn't have to get on a plane anywhere – he knows Yakov prefers it this way, and Lilia is pleased at not needing to worry about jet lag. It also means that Yuri's training regimen isn't interrupted – a fact that Yuri would usually be pleased about, but right now he's cursing.

Collapsing against the boards, panting heavily, Yuri snatches up his water bottle. He guzzles from it greedily, throwing a glance towards the clock at one end of the rink. Otabek's plane should have landed by now, and Yuri wants nothing more than to pack it in on practice for the day and go meet up with him, but he's stuck here for the foreseeable future.

“Run it from the top again,” barks Yakov, and Yuri growls quietly to himself. “And concentrate on your arms – they got sloppy in the step sequences.”

Yuri practically slams his water bottle down and takes up his starting pose in the middle of the ice. He runs the number yet again, making sure his arms are strong throughout, and by the time he gets to the end, he's almost seeing stars at the edges of his vision. He falls to his knees, the cold of the ice biting his skin through his leggings, shoulders heaving with his breaths. His muscles feel like they're on fire and he can feel his limbs shaking.

“Again,” says Yakov. Yuri glares over at him.

“Now you're just being picky,” he grumbles, still catching his breath.

Yakov frowns. “You say that like you don't want to perform your best.”

“It's not a competition,” pants Yuri.

“That's no excuse to slack off,” says Yakov.

“No,” agrees Yuri, “but if I go over it much more I'm going to stab someone with my toe picks.”

Yakov folds his arms, expression relentlessly dour. “Run it once more and then you can go.”

“Thank you,” sighs Yuri, getting to his feet.

Once he's done the whole thing again and taken feedback from Yakov while doing his cool-down stretches, Yuri starts to head gratefully to the changing room, but–

“Don't forget to be ready at six this evening.”

Yuri stops in his tracks, frowning. “Why?”

“Lilia is taking you to see Petrushka at the Vaganova,” says Yakov. “She says she can get you a sponsorship.”

Yuri groans – in his excitement over seeing Otabek again, he completely forgot. “That's tonight?”

Yakov nods. “Your suit came back from the dry cleaners this morning. Try not to scowl at the dancers so much.”

Yuri sighs and slopes off, pulling out his phone so he can let his best friend know why their afternoon plans are now scuppered.

 

The ballet goes on until late, and the small talk until later; by the time it's all over, Yuri feels like a walking corpse. In the relative sanctuary of Lilia's car, he checks his messages to see one from Otabek bidding him goodnight about three hours ago. It makes sense – Otabek's body clock will still be three hours ahead of Yuri's, and he's been on a plane, which never seems to get less exhausting. Nevertheless, Yuri's heart sinks.

_I didn't even get to say goodnight._

“What did you think of the performance?” Lilia asks, her voice cutting into Yuri's reverie.

“Uh, yeah, it was good,” says Yuri automatically. When Lilia says nothing in response, he hurriedly adds, “I think I preferred the Mariinsky rendition though.”

Lilia gives a little huff that Yuri recognises as approving and pauses at a red light. “I think we should be able to get you a sponsorship out of that anyway.”

“We'd better,” says Yuri. This particular evening has been draining and he doesn't want all that effort to go to waste.

The light goes green and Lilia pulls away again. Yuri watches the buildings and street-lights go by out of the window, wondering how early would be too early to message Otabek in the morning.

 

In the end, Yuri needn't have worried: he accidentally sleeps through his alarms and only wakes up when he hears Yakov leaving the apartment. Normally, he'd leave before Yakov to take a leisurely jog to the rink and meet him there, but instead he leaps out of bed to feed Potya and throws on clothes before grabbing his bag and pelting out onto the streets. With no breakfast in his system, his muscles screech in protest, and by the time he gets to the rink (and sees Yakov's car parked outside) he's gasping and gulping for air. Inside, he races into the rink to apologise, but stops short when he sees a familiar figure on the ice and his heart leaps.

Otabek throws a grin Yuri's way as he turns, skating backwards faster before going into a backflip. Yuri feels his jaw drop as Otabek gets to the end of his routine and his music ends. From one side of the rink, Otabek's coach starts going through feedback while Yuri shuffles over to Yakov, also watching, to offer an apology before he makes his way to the changing rooms.

In there, Yuri sees several other skaters – including Phichit and Chris, who seem to be listening to Georgi crying (again) over Anya and her Instagram pregnancy announcement while they get adjustments checked for their costumes. Yuri rolls his eyes and retreats into a corner to change into his practice gear. There's an excited bubble in his chest that threatens to burst when he thinks of Otabek's backflip and how cool it looked, and he's not naïve enough to pretend he doesn't want something to happen. He's spent too many nights up late with Otabek on Skype, re-watched Otabek's Instagram stories too often, thought about Otabek when he should have been thinking about other things (or sleeping), and even he can't lie to himself anymore. He's pretty sure Otabek might like him back (if not he's ridiculously patient and very accommodating) and he's been gearing himself up for this gala for more reasons than the performance. Tomorrow – the day of the gala – is Otabek's birthday, and Yuri wants to find a way to make his feelings known. Even if he gets shot down, he wants to tell Otabek just to get it off his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts,” comes a highly undesirable voice from behind Yuri.

He turns reluctantly to see to see JJ grinning down at him – even with the extra inch Yuri's gained since last year's Grand Prix – and scowls. “You'll have to offer me more than a penny, shithead.”

JJ laughs and tosses his bag down on the bench by Yuri's. Yuri glares at it, knowing that kicking it away would just cause an unnecessary drama he simply doesn't have the time or energy for. Instead, he digs around in his bag to look for a cereal bar to substitute for his missed breakfast as JJ shrugs off his jacket.

“Been practising hard?” JJ asks. Yuri, chomping down on a protein bar and trying to ignore the foul taste, eyes him. “You look pretty wiped.”

Yuri swallows but before he has time to say anything in response, he feels a tap to his shoulder and turns to see Otabek behind him.

“Hey!” Yuri can't keep the giddy smile from his face and he fights the urge to simply throw his arms around Otabek (at least while they're in front of so many people). “That backflip, your routine – it looked so cool!”

Otabek grins. “Thanks, I've been working on the landing for months – my knees were bruised pretty much all the time until recently.”

Yuri laughs, hearing JJ following suit from behind him.

“It's pretty tough, right?” JJ asks, and Yuri sets his jaw – can't JJ see that _he's_ talking to Otabek?! “Like, getting over becomes the easy part, doesn't it?”

Otabek nods. “My ankles hated me, but I wanted to figure it out, you know?”

JJ nods and looks like he might be about to say something but Yuri cuts in.

“When are you done with practice?” he asks. “Want to go get food?”

Otabek opens his mouth, but his reply is caught short when the seamstress working on Chris' costume calls him over for his own alterations. He gives Yuri a small smile. “Seems not yet, plus Yakov was looking for you before. I'll catch you in a bit Yura.”

He follows the seamstress to change into his costume, leaving Yuri gazing mutely after him. Eventually, Yuri sighs and goes to grab his skates out of his bag, but stops when he sees JJ looking at him.

“What?” he snaps. He can't place the look on JJ's face as anything other than _knowing_ , and part of him is astounded JJ has enough brain cells focused on anything other than himself to know _anything_.

Infuriatingly, JJ grins and shrugs. “Nothing, just... observing.”

“Yeah well, observe this,” Yuri says, grabbing his skates and walking away, flipping JJ off over his shoulder as he goes.

When he gets back from his rehearsal, tired and sweaty, and looks for Otabek, Yuri feels his heart sink. He can't see him anywhere, and when he retrieves his phone from the locker he sees a message from Otabek to say he had to go and they'll catch up later. With slumped shoulders and a gnawing sadness in his stomach, Yuri leaves the rink to go to the ballet studio to meet Lilia. At this rate, he'll never even _see_ Otabek, let alone make some kind of move.

The rest of Yuri's day continues in the same busy way and when he gets back home he feels completely exhausted and strangely lonely. He kicks off his shoes and lies on his bed with Potya, curling around her with one hand petting her side and the other clutching his phone.

“I just want to hang out with him for a little while,” he murmurs to the cat, who opens one eye and surveys him lazily. “Why is it so hard to get that?”

Potya yawns and closes her eyes, snuggling into Yuri's chest. He gives her a little smile and kisses her between the ears, feeling her purring against him.

“I've got to do something tomorrow,” he yawns softly, more to himself than the cat. His eyelids feel heavy and he lets them close briefly, aware that he needs to change out of his clothes and get into bed properly. He yawns, psyching himself to get up, but then Potya turns over, looking at him with her wide blue eyes and he pauses, scratching her behind the ears.

“You okay?” he asks her, voice slow and sleepy.

“Yes I'm fine, despite my late breakfast,” she says. “But you're right – you need to do something about this Otabek thing.”

Yuri sighs. “How? I never get to see him normally and even now he's here I'm pretty much always busy.”

“You've got to make your own destiny,” says Potya. “If you like him you need to find a way.”

“You're right,” says Yuri. “I have to make this happen. I can't let him go back to Almaty without saying anything and it's his birthday tomorrow.”

“So go for it,” says Potya, looking stern. “It will be a good birthday present.”

“Okay... okay.”

“Now that's settled, please scratch under my chin – it feels nice.”

Yuri wakes up to a funny taste in his mouth and his phone still in his hand. Checking the time, he sees it's nearly one in the morning. Potya is sleeping peacefully beside him, not talking. He sits up slowly, going to clean his teeth and change. Despite him knowing it was a dream, he also knows Potya was right: he can't sit around waiting for something to happen. It's time to get proactive.

 

At the rink the following day, Yuri gets every spare moment with Otabek that he can. He realises he probably seems a little desperate – and it's probably true – but he doesn't care. Yuri spends all his downtime with Otabek, watches him run his routine, eats lunch with him, chats with him about anything and everything.

When the skaters are lined up for the final dress rehearsal – Yuri fidgeting with his itchy wizard's beard – he tentatively brings up something he's been wanting to ask.

“Hey, do you have plans for later?”

Otabek looks down at the floor, his sigh ruffling the fake werewolf fur on his chest, a slight colour coming into his cheeks.

“Yeah, I'm... going out to a club.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry Yura.”

“It's okay.” _It's not._

“I didn't realise at the time.”

“Don't worry about it,” says Yuri. “When are you flying back?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

“Right.”

“We can hang out tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

They both fall silent and watch Katsudon finish his routine (to great enthusiasm from Viktor). As Katsudon vacates the ice, Otabek turns to Yuri.

“Yura–”

“Otabek Altin!”

They both look around to see a marshal beckoning Otabek to get on the ice to rehearse his skate. Otabek throws Yuri a reproachful look before taking off his skate guards and heading out. Yuri watches him go with folded arms and a little sigh, leaning on the boards to watch him. He's been enjoying watching so far, but now there's a bitter feeling on his tongue. As he follows Otabek's progress around the ice, he becomes aware of someone standing beside him and looks to his side to see JJ.

“You look like someone pissed on your pirozhki, little Yuri,” JJ comments.

“Fuck off JJ,” mutters Yuri, not wanting to cause any kind of fracas but equally unwilling to listen to whatever JJ is looking to say. Unfortunately JJ leans companionably on the boards beside him. His costume – an Arabian Nights themed djinn outfit – catches the light, throwing it around into multicoloured sparkles on their surroundings.

“What's on your mind?” he asks. Yuri frowns, ready to tell JJ to get lost again, but then Otabek pauses on the ice, back arching and leaning his head back to imitate howling at the moon and he realises JJ already knows.

“Him,” he concedes, nodding perfunctorily at Otabek. He's expecting a laugh (or at least a mocking raise of JJ's eyebrow) but instead JJ cocks his head to one side.

“Did he reject you?” he asks.

Yuri scoffs. “I haven't even had time to say anything for him to reject.”

JJ nods. Sympathy looks weird on him, but Yuri finds he doesn't really care too much. “Too busy?” he asks, to a nod from Yuri. “What about after the gala?”

“He's going out.” Yuri can't keep the resentment out of his voice when the feeling is still so raw. “Clubbing.”

Otabek does his backflip and Yuri hears a collective impressed sound from the rest of the skaters. He slumps forward further, chin resting on his folded arms, and watches the rest of Otabek's routine in silence. When Otabek exits the ice and joins him, Yuri pushes himself off the boards and throws one last look over his shoulder at JJ as he walks away. JJ looks between Yuri and Otabek appraisingly, waving them off with an odd smirk.

 

Yuri is skulking around in a corner at the after party when JJ catches up to him again. Without Otabek, the party is less than bearable: Yuri's been avoiding getting into conversation with people in favour of keeping himself to himself. It's no mean feat when people want to talk to him about his gala performance (and, even more frustratingly, Otabek's), so by the time JJ sidles up to him Yuri is more than a little irritated.

“Wishing you were elsewhere?” JJ asks.

Yuri fixes him with a scowl. JJ is holding a glass of champagne and has accessoried his suit to fit with the djinn theme of his gala programme. His tie clip is bejewelled , made to look like a little row of scarab beetles, he has metal bracelets at his wrists and a brooch in his lapel of a lamp. What a fucking dick.

“Get lost shithead,” says Yuri, turning away.

JJ tuts. “So rude, little Yuri. And here I was, about to offer you my help.” He sighs theatrically and takes a sip of his champagne. “But if you prefer to stay here in my company I can't say I blame you. I mean, just look at this stellar view.”

With a wave of his hand, JJ indicates the sight of Viktor trying to ply Katsudon with alcohol in a bid to do something unmentionable, while off to one side Mila and Sara are playing some kind of dares game with Emil and Mickey. Yuri huffs, folding his arms.

“I don't see how you can help,” he grumbles.

“You might be surprised princess,” says JJ with a grin.

Yuri rolls his eyes. “'Princess'? Really?”

JJ's grin grows nothing short of shit-eating. “Yes, princess, for you _shall_ go to the ball!”

“Are you like this with your fiancée?”

JJ laughs. “Bella says she loves every silly bit of me.”

“And she'd be fine with whatever shit this is?” Yuri gestures between himself and JJ.

“Oh yes,” nods JJ. “She loves it when I help out the less fortunate.”

Yuri resists the urge to claw out JJ's stupid eyes and starts to stalk away. “On second thoughts, I don't need your help.”

“So you know where he is then?” calls JJ, stopping Yuri in his tracks.

“I'll figure it out,” scoffs Yuri.

“What, like when you traipsed around Barcelona all night?”

Yuri throws a glare over his shoulder. “You probably don't know either.”

JJ laughs again. “Actually he told me earlier.”

“Yeah? Then tell _me_.”

“Not so fast, little Yuri. I think you should give me something in return.”

Yuri turns to face him properly, eyeing him with suspicion. “Like what?”

JJ's toady grin grows wider. “The way I see it, there are three wishes I can grant you.” He winks, gesturing to his lamp brooch, and steps closer to Yuri again. “All I ask in return for each is a compliment.”

Yuri glowers up at JJ. “You're not serious.”

“What's wrong with that princess? It's nice to pay people compliments, don't you find?” JJ asks airily.

Rolling his eyes again, Yuri weighs up his options. He desperately wants to not need JJ's help (a pretty consistent desire in Yuri's life) and he knows he could try and get by without it, but he could be out all night looking for Otabek. Add to that the very high possibility of him not being able to get in the clubs he tries and the fact that Yakov and Lilia will go spare if he disappears on them... Maybe he can't do this alone.

“Fine,” he agrees, practically sticking out his bottom lip. “Let's get this over with.”

“That's the spirit,” beams JJ. “It'll be fun princess – just think of me as your very own, devilishly handsome, fairy godmother.”

“I'd really rather not.”

“And together,” continues JJ, undeterred, “we'll get you to land Prince Charming and make all your dreams come true!”

“Hey guys, what's up?” Viktor approaches them, looking pink-cheeked and shiny-eyed.

“Get fucking lost Viktor!” Yuri snaps. Apparently cowed by Yuri's tone, Viktor backs off, returning to Katsudon's side. Yuri surveys him with a glare, muttering. “Ugly step sister if ever I fucking saw one.”

JJ snorts with laughter. “He's certainly not as pretty a drunk as one might expect.”

“So what are these three wishes then?” Yuri asks, conscious of the evening already slipping away from him and wanting to get this part over with as soon as possible.

“You need to know where Otabek has gone,” says JJ, that self-satisfied grin back on his face, “you need a way to get into the club when you get there and you need an alibi for your scary step mothers.”

Yuri glances briefly past JJ to where Yakov and Lilia are chatting with Phichit's long-haired coach. “And you want your ego stroked before you'll help me?” he asks, looking sullenly up at JJ again.

JJ chuckles. “Once for each wish.”

Unwilling to delay the inevitable (because they both know how badly he wants this), Yuri sighs. “Fine. You...” Despite himself, he hesitates, trying to find something nice to say to someone he hates so much. “You... have nice hair.”

Another smug grin lights up JJ's face. “Yes?”

“Yeah, the undercut. It's kind of cool.”

“And that opinion has nothing to with a certain someone else who has an undercut rather similar?” Yuri flushes at the words, but JJ laughs. “I'll let you have it though.”

“You'd better,” Yuri bristles. “So where is he?”

“Sub-Zero.”

Yuri nods – it makes sense: from what he's heard the place is cool enough for someone like Otabek, and it's not far from here.

“Continue at your leisure, princess,” prompts JJ, earning another glare.

“Shithead,” murmurs Yuri under his breath, before adding, “You dress well.”

“You think so?” JJ asks, preening just a little with his cufflinks and smiling down at Yuri. “I do try.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, don't let it go to your head or you won't be able to get out the door. Less of _this_ , more help please.”

“Fair play,” says JJ. “Sub-Zero has a side-entrance. You can avoid the bouncers altogether if you wait for your chance there.”

Yuri frowns. “How do you know that?”

“Bella has some model friends here who were telling her about how they used to sneak in when they were your age,” explains JJ. “I can get one of them to meet you there and help, if you want.”

Yuri considers him for a moment before nodding grudgingly.

“You'll need to dress older though,” points out JJ.

“No shit,” says Yuri, already weighing up his clothing options. He might have something in his bag. “Give me a second to think of the last nice thing I'll ever say to you.”

“Yeah, about that,” says JJ, the words making Yuri feel like ice has dropped into his stomach. “I'm going to need to put a little caveat on that.”

“Like what?” Any caveat of JJ's is _not_ going to be enjoyable.

“I'd like it to be about my skating,” grins JJ. “And I'd like it to be true.”

Yuri stares at him, brows low over his eyes. “No fucking way.”

JJ beams, teeth dazzlingly white. “Yes way.”

“You're such a fucking shitlord,” says Yuri.

“Whether that's true or not,” replies JJ, “you need me to cover for you or Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are going to be very unhappy with you.”

Yuri scowls, fists clenching, frowning at the cuffs of JJ's trousers. JJ's right (ugh) but what can he say to fulfil JJ's requests of kind, true _and_ about his skating? Is there really nothing in JJ's skating Yuri admires, even grudgingly?

“Your... your jumps are... really strong,” he eventually stammers, not daring to meet JJ's gaze.

“Aw, really princess?” asks JJ, his smug smile evident in his voice even before Yuri finally looks back up. “You're right, of course, but it's sweet to know you noticed!”

“Yeah, whatever,” grumbles Yuri, face hot. “You'd better be making this worth it.”

“Of course,” says JJ, taking another sip of champagne. “I can cover for you until midnight.”

“Only midnight?” frowns Yuri.

“Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, little Yuri.” JJ waves a hand. “It's when the party ends, plus it's not about the time you get but how you use it.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Sure, bippity-boppity-whatever.” He throws a glance over to Yakov and Lilia and then looks back at JJ. “I'm out of here.”

“Have fun princess – don't turn into a pumpkin!”

 

The side entrance to the club is exactly where JJ told him it would be, and a tall, thin woman Yuri has seen on billboards and posters in the Metro meets him there. She doesn't say much, simply ushering him inside as she stubs out her cigarette on the nearby bin. Inside, Sub-Zero is largely dark: purple lights roll and bounce around the room, shifting to blue and green as Yuri stares around to search for Otabek. There's a heavy press of bodies on the dance-floor and a smell like the changing rooms after a competition laced with beer – it makes finding any one person next to impossible. With a dejected sigh, Yuri tries to go see if Otabek is at the bar, but then something (or rather someone) in the DJ booth catches his eye.

“Otabek!” he calls without thinking, the music drowning out his voice. He starts to make his way over, dodging and weaving through the dancing mass in the middle of the room. It's slow going, but eventually he finds himself at the bottom of a little set of steps up behind the mixing deck. Otabek is bent over slightly, chunky DJ headphones over his ears as he fiddles with buttons and switches, and Yuri holds back, not wanting to interrupt him. Eventually, Otabek pulls the headphones down so they rest around his neck and grabs a pint glass from the top of the console to take a sip.

“Otya!” Yuri calls, finally starting up the steps towards Otabek, who almost drops his glass in surprise, one hand clapping over his mouth to keep from spitting out a mouthful of beer. He swallows, the movement laboured.

“Yuri?!” he asks, putting the glass down to look at Yuri properly.

Yuri beams. “Happy birthday!”

Otabek blinks at him, still apparently in shock. “How did you get in?”

“I got some help,” says Yuri. He doesn't want to explain about where said help came from, and instead steps forward to peer curiously at the array of controls. “What do all these do?”

There's a pause where Otabek seems to silently weigh up his options. Yuri knows he'll give in, even before he feels Otabek move to stand beside him, one hand on the small of Yuri's back as he leans against the edge of the console. With the warmth of Otabek's body against his side, Yuri almost forgets to pay attention as Otabek starts talking him through his playlists, the knobs and dials and buttons, voice growing more fervent and excited as he speaks. His enthusiasm is infectious: Yuri can't help but grin as he listens, even if a lot of it doesn't necessarily stay in his brain long (especially when Otabek brushes the back of Yuri's hand with his fingers while gesturing to... something).

At the end of Otabek's set, the two of them make their way to the dance-floor. Yuri knows Otabek won't buy him a drink (a _real_ drink that is – he gets him both plastic cups of water from the bar) so he doesn't push it, deciding to lose himself in dancing to the music. The heavy bass pulses though his body, shaking in his tongue as his teeth vibrate. His heart feels like it dances to the beat along with him. He rolls his shoulders, spine undulating steadily, and all the while he keeps looking at Otabek, laughing at him when his face gets too serious. It's almost like they're the only two people in the world, especially whenever Yuri feels the gentle touch of Otabek's hand on his shoulder, his back, even (once, for entirely too short a time) his hip.

_He's interested_ , a little voice inside Yuri says, just loud enough to be heard over the music. _He's got to be._

The current song ends and Yuri watches Otabek wipe sweat from his brow and turn to him.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” Otabek asks over the driving drums of the next song's introduction. Yuri nods and follows him out to a courtyard. Most people out here seem to have a very different idea of 'fresh air', rolling cigarettes and lighting them while huddled together in small groups. Yuri leans against the wall, Otabek standing beside him. Their breaths mist in the air before them as the chill cools their skin; Yuri can feel Otabek looking at him even before he glances over.

“Are you having a good birthday?” Yuri asks when Otabek continues to simply gaze at him, raising a smile.

“Much better for you being here.”

Yuri's heart skips and he looks down at his feet in a bid to hide the colour creeping into his face, anything he might be able to say catching in his throat.

“You okay?” Otabek asks.

“Yes,” Yuri says quickly, nodding. “Just... shit, don't say something embarrassing like that, I don't know what to say to it.”

Otabek's shoes appear in Yuri's eyeline; when he looks up, he realises how close they're standing. For one wild, heart-stopping moment, Otabek seems to lean in, but then the tense silence between them breaks with the tinny sound of Yuri's ringtone.

Shit.

SHIT.

Retrieving his phone from his back pocket, Yuri feels his heart plummet when he sees Yakov's name and picture on the screen. It plummets further when he sees that it's almost two o'clock in the morning.

“How in the fuck...” Yuri shakes his head, hitting the green button. “Hello?”

“Oh, so you _are_ alive.” Yakov's voice is rough, tired and very, _very_ angry. “Would you like to explain why neither of us has been able to get through to you for the last several hours?”

“I...” Yuri looks helplessly at Otabek, still standing close to him. “I must have not heard it.”

“Where are you?” asks Yakov. “We couldn't find you after the party and no one seemed to know or be willing to divulge your whereabouts.”

Huh – it seems JJ didn't sell him out, even after the party ended. Still, there's not much Yuri can do. He sighs.

“I snuck out to a club,” he admits. “I went to hang out with Otabek.”

“Which club?” asks Yakov. “We're coming to get you. If you're not outside when we get there I shall come inside and fetch you.”

Yuri gives the name of the place and hangs up soon after, looking back into Otabek's face. “Looks like my carriage awaits,” he says ruefully. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” says Otabek. “I had fun.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” says Otabek. “I'm glad we got to hang out for a bit.”

“Me too,” says Yuri. He can't quite take his mind off what might have happened if Yakov hadn't called when he did, skin still tingling in anticipation. However, the threat of Yakov coming into the club to collect him like a toddler from a nursery is enough to make him straighten up and look towards the door. “I'd better go.”

“I'll text you in the morning,” says Otabek, and despite getting disgracefully dragged home like this, Yuri finds he can't keep little butterflies from fluttering to life in his stomach.

 

The reprimand Yuri gets is predictably bad: when they get back home he sits on the edge of the sofa while Lilia and Yakov berate him, only half listening (the other half is still buzzing with excitement), and afterwards he's sent to bed with the instruction that he's grounded for a week. This, Yuri tries his best to protest – he wants to see Otabek tomorrow and say goodbye at the airport, and he should have been able to because not even Yakov and Lilia are sadistic enough to make him train the day after a gala. No matter how much he argues, however, the two of them are resolute, and when he eventually goes to bed at nearly three in the morning, it's in defeat.

In the morning (well, several hours later), Yuri wakes to the sound of a message from Otabek (and yeah, he might have set it up so that his phone would only make a sound if Otabek messaged him) and nuzzles sleepily next to Potya to read it.

 

**[09:17] Otabek**

Hey, hope you're okay. Sorry you got in trouble.

**[09:18] Yuri**

It's okay, I had a good night, I hope you did too.

**[09:18] Otabek**

I did, thanks for spending it with me. :)

What time did you get to bed?

**[09:19] Yuri**

Like 3 I think, the Nanny Goats had to say their bit. You?

**[09:19] Otabek**

I haven't really slept as such, had a nap and just woke up.

Was hoping we could hang out today if you want to?

 

Yuri's heart sinks and he looks forlornly at Potya. He knows he could have spent today with Otabek if he hadn't snuck out (or at least made sure he was back before his curfew), but at the same time he can't regret what he did entirely.

 

**[09:21] Yuri**

Apparently I'm under house arrest. :/

**[09:22] Otabek**

Oh man, I'm really sorry.

Are you allowed visitors?

**[09:22] Yuri**

Doubt it, might get scalped for asking.

**[09:23] Otabek**

Wow, that bad?

**[09:23] Yuri**

There's a reason I don't fuck with Lilia.

 

Yuri puts his phone down and cuddles Potya close, a strange, crushed feeling in his chest. He never got to tell Otabek how he feels, not in person, and now it would feel disingenuous to say it over a text message or phone call. Now he faces weeks or even months before he can even see him again, and it makes his stomach feel tight.

His phone buzzes again and he looks – he half-hopes it's Otabek – to see a message from JJ.

 

**[09:28] Shithead**

Hey princess, did you have a good night with your prince charming? ;P

 

Yuri deletes several replies before he finds what he wants to say.

 

**[09:30] Yuri**

I did, kinda lost track of time though.

**[09:31] Shithead**

Yeah I thought that might have happened.

Yakov asked me if I knew where you were.

I said you went to pee.

**[09:32] Yuri**

Thank you for that.

**[09:32] Shithead**

I said I would, and after your kind words about my jumps I thought I'd be the best fairy godmother I could. :)

**[09:33] Yuri**

Yeah, I already said thanks, no need to get smug.

**[09:33] Shithead**

You got to talk to Otabek though right?

**[09:33] Yuri**

Not exactly.

**[09:33] Shithead**

What do you mean?

**[09:34] Yuri**

Clubs are loud and we were dancing, Kinda had a moment outside but then Yakov called.

**[09:34] Shithead**

You had a moment?

**[09:34] Yuri**

Yes.

**[09:34] Shithead**

And???????

**[09:35] Yuri**

And then Yakov called and the moment was over.

**[09:35] Shithead**

And you didn't get to tell him how you feel?

**[09:36] Yuri**

No.

**[09:36] Shithead**

Or kiss him even?

**[09:36] Yuri**

No.

 

There's a long pause before the ellipsis appears on screen to signal JJ typing.

 

**[09:38] Shithead**

Leave it with me, I might have some magic left for you princess. ;)

 

Yuri cocks and eyebrow and puts his phone down, rolling out of bed to go clean his teeth and find clothes. He potters about the apartment, avoiding Yakov and Lilia even as he goes into the kitchen to feed Potya. By the time he gets back to his room, his shoulders are slumped and he wants so badly to get outside and _do_ something. He's never experienced cabin fever before, but he's never been kept indoors like this before. He checks his phone, seeing nothing of import, and falls face-first onto his bed again.

Muffled sounds come to him: the TV in the living room, the clunking of pipes and the sound of distant traffic and wind outside. He focuses on one particular noise: the buzz of a motorbike engine, not unlike the one Otabek dragged him onto last year in Barcelona, coming closer. In his silent solitude, Yuri lets himself imagine something wild like Otabek coming to rescue him from his captivity.

The engine cuts out, the silence of the sound strangely jarring to Yuri.

His phone vibrates.

 

**[10:42] Otabek**

Look out of your window.

 

Yuri frowns, but his heart skips hopefully, and he pushes himself to his feet to go over to the window.

“What the–”

Otabek stands in the courtyard outside, face turned up to Yuri's window, and Yuri doesn't recognise the look in his eyes. He slides open the catch, opening the window.

“Otabek!” he calls, voice edging on breathless (and that's probably a good thing, given that he should attempt being quiet right now). “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” Otabek says simply; Yuri swears he feels his heart stop for a beat with those words. “Can I come up?”

“I don't think they'd let you.” Yuri hopes fervently that neither Yakov nor Lilia looks out of the window right now.

“Will _you_?”

Yuri barely has time to look confused before he sees Otabek eyeing the drainpipe and brickwork of the building. When Otabek looks up at him again, Yuri nods and watches as Otabek starts to scale the drainpipe, keeping half an ear out for any commotion elsewhere in the apartment but hearing nothing. He pushes the window open wide when Otabek reaches it, watching (still half listening) as Otabek climbs gracelessly through it and lands in a heap on the floor. Normally with Otabek he's animated and chatty as soon as they're together, but he's not sure what to do in the face of a gesture this big, and so he stands there, blinking and useless, while Otabek gets up and gives him a little smile.

“You okay Yura?” he asks to another nod from Yuri. “You seem very quiet.”

Yuri swallows. “Yeah, I... What are you doing here? I mean, not that I'm not pleased to see you, but I just... wasn't expecting it.”

Otabek half shrugs. “I wanted to see you, and when you said you couldn't I did think about this, but then I talked myself out of it. I figured I shouldn't pick a fight with Yakov – he's taller than me – but then JJ called me.”

_Oh no._

“He was talking about 'seize the day' and stuff,” continues Otabek, “was being kind of weirdly insistent about how I should come see you today. I mean, I think I know why.”

“You do?” _I swear to god if that toady motherfucker said a fucking word–_

“Yeah...” Otabek throws Yuri a look of uncharacteristic uncertainty. “I kind of... talked to him about some stuff, about you.”

_You're fucking_ dead _Leroy._

“And I realised he was right: I couldn't not see you for weeks or months or however long it's going to be without talking to you first,” says Otabek, and Yuri's silence becomes stunned because he's never seen Otabek look _nervous_ before. “So I came to talk to you and tell you that I like you. A lot. Like... 'I wanted to kiss you last night and have wanted to do so for a while' kind of like.”

Yuri's jaw drops as he gazes at Otabek. “What?”

“I like you,” repeats Otabek.

“Really?” Yuri asks, kicking himself for sounding so stupid, but Otabek just nods, looking at him in a way he never has before...

But no, Yuri realises with a jolt: Otabek always looks at him like this, with a softness to the set of his mouth and a searching, questioning look in his eyes. It's only now that Yuri understands what that look means.

And how annoying it is that it had to be spelled out for him.

A giggle bubbles out of him, his chest feeling light with laughter. Otabek looks adorably confused (and with good reason, because who starts laughing at something like that?) but then Yuri crosses to him in two strides and takes Otabek's face in his hands, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

After the briefest moment of hesitation, Yuri feels Otabek's arms encircle his waist and pull him close, their lips tender and yielding to one another. It's a surprise, how soft and warm the kiss feels – whenever Yuri imagined kissing Otabek, he always thought Otabek would be more... forceful, perhaps. Instead, the press of Otabek's mouth is gentle, inquisitive but not pushy; Yuri isn't sure he could handle anything more anyway, with how wonderfully light-headed he already feels. Otabek's arms around him are steadying, grounding, warm through his t-shirt and absolutely _right_.

When they part, Yuri realises he's trembling and his heart is practically humming with how fast it beats. Under his fingers, he can feel heat in Otabek's face, and part of him marvels that he can make Otabek _blush_.

“Should I...” Otabek breathes, gazing wonderingly into Yuri's face. “I mean, does this–”

“I like you too dummy,” says Yuri quickly. “I... I was trying to find a way to tell you yesterday, for your birthday, but shit kept happening and I never got to, even with JJ helping.”

“You accepted help from JJ?” asks Otabek.

Yuri flushes. “Yeah, I mean... I didn't know what else to do.”

Otabek chuckles, touching his forehead to Yuri's. “You must have been at your wit's end. I'm sorry I couldn't get my shit together before you had to resort to such desperate measures.”

Yuri grins, rolling his eyes. “Well, I suppose I can forgive you,” he says, “if you kiss me again.”

Otabek laughs, cupping Yuri's jaw with one strong hand as he draws him in for another sweet kiss.

 

Hours later, after hushed conversation, a few games on Yuri's computer and too many more kisses to count, Otabek's phone makes a jingling sound. He rolls to one side to grab it from the bedside table and silence the alarm.

“That's my cue to go,” he says, coming to lie by Yuri's side again. He brushes Yuri's fringe out of his eyes and Yuri closes his fingers around Otabek's wrist.

“Please don't go,” he murmurs, green eyes wide and earnest.

Otabek smiles sadly. “I have to go sweetheart – I'll miss my plane home.” He kisses the tip of Yuri's nose. “You know I don't want to.”

Yuri wants to protest more, the selfish part of him keen to grab onto Otabek and never let him go, but he knows he can't. Instead he leans up for another kiss, sighing softly when Otabek runs a gentle hand down his arm to twine their fingers together. They separate on one more quick peck on the lips before Otabek pushes himself to his feet.

“Let me know when you get back,” Yuri says as Otabek pulls his shoes on. “Just message me or something – you don't have to call me if you don't want to.”

Otabek smiles, getting up. “And if I want to?”

Yuri flushes, gaze dropping to Otabek's chest. “I'd... like that.”

“Then I'll call,” says Otabek. “Soon as I get home.” He crosses to the window, opening to sit astride the sill.

“Okay,” says Yuri, following. “Thanks.” He puts a hand on Otabek's shoulder – he can't stop touching him, almost to make sure he's really there. “I'll see you soon. I hope you had a good birthday.”

Otabek grins. “The best.”

He pulls Yuri in by the back of his neck for one final, lingering kiss before climbing out of the window and shimmying down the drainpipe. Yuri watches him go, heart full and a huge grin on his face.

When Otabek is out of sight, he pulls out his phone.

 

**[15:58] Yuri**

Hey, thanks for your help.

**[15:59] Shithead**

No problem princess, you can call me Jean-ie if you like. ;P

**[16:00] Yuri**

How are you still the worst?

 


End file.
